The Great Storyteller

Chapter 380: The Crow Never Dies (1)

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

After a morning exercise and a shower, Juho felt light and refreshed. Lately, he had been able to sleep very well, sleeping through just about anything, from the alarm to the phone ringing. Even if somebody were to break in and kidnap him, Juho would have slept right through it, completely oblivious to the situation. Now, the problem was that he was sleeping too well. Meanwhile, concerned about looking for a job, Seo Kwang was going through a miserable time. When Juho was talking to him on the phone while eating breakfast, Seo Kwang sounded quite discouraged.

“I’m begging you, Juho. You’re my only hope. Is there any way you can finish writing that book soon?” Seo Kwang asked, and Juho laughed it off. In the end, irritated by Juho’s nonchalant attitude, Seo Kwang hung up the phone.

“Now, let’s think about how the client comes to visit the protagonist,” Juho murmured as he cleaned and organized the desk. Research data, manuscripts, coffee cups, a plate of leftover delivery food, a notepad, the book. Wol Kang’s sentences. Categorizing them was hardly a daunting task.

“Was death what he wanted? Did he regret anything in his last moments?” Juho said to himself, closing his eyes, waiting for Wol Kang. However, Wol was nowhere to be found. In the end, sitting on the chair, Juho answered the questions himself, “No, and no.”

Juho was feeling clear-headed that day. As if the fog in his mind had been lifted, Juho was alert and aware. With his arms crossed, Juho spun himself on the chair. When he stopped spinning, he came face to face with the manuscript on the desk. Tapping on the letters with his finger, he said, “During his twenty-year career, the protagonist had never failed at his job. Not once. He had always lived with murderous intent in his heart, but he had kept himself busy, restoring things to the state they were in before they started wearing out.”

That was about the extent of information the client had about the protagonist. The protagonist had bloodthirst hidden deep within him. At the same time, he had the ability to restore things to their original state. Uncrossing his arms, Juho started typing on his laptop.

“Anybody would kneel if they were standing before God.”

That would be especially true for those who were terminally ill. At that moment, Juho couldn’t help but chuckle. To the client, the protagonist was God. Desperate to live, the client wanted to be restored to his healthy self, like the leather goods that had been restored by the protagonist. However, they couldn’t have both life and God.

“Even the goods that had been restored by the protagonist were bound to wear out eventually.”

As the shortage of oxygen became more and more apparent after getting buried alive, the client’s regret also started to grow, reminding the client of the consequence of their decision. Soon, a spirit appeared.

“Death.”

The room became filled with vicious typing noise. When Juho looked away from the screen to checked the time, he realized that he had been typing for ten minutes nonstop, and the throbbing pain in his fingers’ joints was proof of that. Taking a short break, Juho thought, “I wonder what Mr. Kang would do.”

Looking at the protagonist and the client in the manuscript, Juho leaned his head back, feeling good.

—

“Thanks for making time, Mr. Woo. I understand you’re busy.”

“I can’t say no to free food,” Juho said to Dong Baek and Jang Mi, whom he hadn’t seen in a while.

“Please. Feel free to choose anything you want, Mr. Woo,” Dong Baek said, putting the menu in front of Juho. Meanwhile, the server waited to take their orders. Upon doing so, the server walked away, leaving the three on their own. At which point, Jang Mi asked anxiously, “I heard things are going very smoothly. Is that right?”

“I’m doing what I can.”

Looking at the expression on Juho’s face, Jang Mi narrowed her eyes and said, “Modesty is only a virtue when practiced in moderation, Mr. Woo.”

“But, I’m serious,” Juho replied.

“Well, you do look like you’re in a good mood.”

“Maybe.”

At that, Dong Baek and Jang Mi’s faces lit up simultaneously. As the president signaled the editor with his eyes, she responded with a subtle nod and asked, “How much longer do you think it’ll be until it’s finished, Mr. Woo?”

“I can’t say.”

“You are planning on releasing it, right? Otherwise, you just might make me cry.”

“Well...”

“C’ mon! Tell us! How was it staying at Mr. Lim’s residence?” Jang Mi said, changing the subject. After Juho gave a brief summary of the experience, she let out a long sigh, saddened by the reminder of Wol’s death.

“I wonder why he had to leave us so soon.”

“It’s a tragedy,” Dong Baek said, brushing his hand down his face. It was clear that he was genuinely mourning the death of the talented writer as a fan rather than a businessman.

“You seem to be a fan.” Juho posited.

“I’m a huge fan,” Dong Baek replied almost instantly. As Jang Mi reminded him to get a hold of himself, the president coughed and added, “I used to dream of becoming a writer while reading his books. Mr. Kang taught me how fun reading can be and how powerful writing can be. If he hadn’t been an author, I wouldn’t be here now,” he said, sniffling. There was a deep sadness in him. “I got very emotional when I found out that he passed away.”

“Did you cry?”

“How could I not? I wailed.”

Juho looked toward Jang Mi, who nodded quietly. Seeing as she looked slightly disgusted, it seemed like Dong Baek wasn’t afraid of expressing his affection for Wol Kang.

“He always talks about Mr. Kang when he’s drunk. He cries his eyes out too.”

Juho nodded, remembering the president’s excessively emotional reaction at the Nebula Award ceremony. Dong Baek tended to be sentimental by nature. Then, almost as if cracking a joke, Juho asked, “Something tells me you’d be very upset if I were to ruin his book somehow.”

“Even if it was you, I would never forgive you, Mr. Woo,” Dong Baek said with a serious expression on his face. At which point, Juho sat slightly further back.

“I’m joking,” the president said with a smile.

“That was one scary joke.”

“Haha. Maybe I would’ve been better off not saying it.”

“Well, I’m sure a lot of people are still looking forward to the book.”

“Of course. You could just tell from the articles.”

Juho was working on Wol’s last book, which had been left unfinished by the author. There was no way that readers wouldn’t be excited. On top of that, Juho had been putting off all interview requests he had received.

“I was even threatened to write it well once,” Juho said.

“Who did that!? Who would dare do such a thing?”

When Juho brought up the name of his friend, the two waved their hands as if making sense of the situation.

“So, you two really ARE close. I’m sure that’s what made the translation what it is.”

“You seem to hang out with him often.”

The two seemed to be quite fond of the translator. Of course, a skilled translator was well loved within the industry.

“I heard he reads a ridiculous amount of books on a regular basis. Is that right?”

“His parents own a bookstore, so I’m sure that plays into his reading habit,” Juho replied.

“Personally, I thought your first encounter was quite interesting. He had no idea that you were Yun Woo back then.”

“We met under a similar situation, Ms. Hong.”

“Well, there’s the official occasion, and there’s the private. We had simply thought we had come across a hidden talent.”

“‘Scuse me.”

At that moment, the door opened, and the waiter started to bring the food in, filling the table with it.

“It’s good.”

“Right? I’m a regular here,” Jang Mi said confidently, as if she had chosen that restaurant for a reason. Since the food was actually good, Juho ate in a hurry.

“So, what’s it like to follow in Mr. Kang’s footsteps?” she asked.

Swallowing the food in his mouth, Juho replied, “It’s a big responsibility.”

“That’s interesting. I thought it might make it easier in some sense. There’s nothing exciting about walking through a dirty, crowded road, but walking through the snow where nobody has? That’s exciting.”

“Actually, it might be a slightly different concept,” Juho said and added, “I’d say it’s closer to drawing in eyebrows on the Mona Lisa.”

“I don’t know...” Jang Mi said, rubbing her arm. Juho shrugged.

“Sounds like the manuscript was already in decent shape to begin with,” Dong Baek said.

Licking his lips, Juho chose his words carefully.

“In terms of quantity, no. But...”

“But?”

“I’m sure Mr. Kang had a certain ending in mind. He had to have had the entire story mapped out in his head.”

“Is that visible in his writing?”

“It is.”

“So, you know how it ends...” Dong Baek said, rubbing his chin. Yun Woo had always exceeded the president’s expectations, and every single one of the young author’s decisions had been outside of Dong Baek’s imagination. At Juho’s response, Dong Baek nodded and reiterated the young author’s answer, “So, what you’re saying is that you’re working with the characters made by Mr. Kang. Am I right?”

“Right. In essence, I think that’s what it means to pick up where he left off.”

“Now that you put it that way, that is kind of intimidating. It’s almost suffocating, really.”

“It could be. But, it turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought.”

Juho had been drawing himself closer to the characters created by Wol. Continuing in his footsteps by completing the lives of his characters was an exciting thought.

“Killing off Mr. Kang’s characters is surprisingly nerve-racking.”

“... Wait, as in...”

“Pretend you didn’t hear anything.”

Having the urge to be part of the project, which was more intense than anything she had felt before, Jang Mi covered her mouth. She wanted to be the editor behind turning that manuscript into a book. Considering the rapid growth of the company, making a quality product was more than possible. In fact, she was confident that she could get as close to ideal quality as possible. Jang Mi looked toward Dong Baek. He also seemed to share that thought, and his tightly clenched lips were proof of that.

“Have you been getting calls from other publishers, Mr. Woo?”

“Yes, I have. I’ve been turning all of them down,” Juho replied with a gentle smile. Dong Baek’s eyes were sparkling with interest, and they were quite reminiscent of Hyun Do’s editor.

“You have my number, right? If you need any help, please don’t hesitate to call. As a huge fan of Wol Kang, I’ll do everything within my power to help. At no cost.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We’ve been working with a lot of talented writers lately. Oh! Did you see our new mystery literary magazine? It’s been doing quite well!”

“Ah, right. I’ve seen it.”

“We’re also in talks to release a book with Ms. Youn. You’re close with her, right?”

“Ah, yes. San Jung.”

“We’re quickly becoming known as a publisher capable of catching two birds with one stone.”

As Juho smiled, the two also smiled. Although the meal turned out to be a fierce mind game, Dong Baek publishing couldn’t win the young author over in the end. When the meal came to an end, Juho rose from his seat in order to go to the restroom.

“We’ll be taking care of the bill. What do you say we have some tea over at our office, Mr. Woo?”

“Sounds good.”

Drying his hands, Juho walked out of the restroom to the hallway while thinking about the protagonist’s next victim. If the protagonist were to end up on death row, many more people would have to die by his hands, which meant he would have to see more souls leave his victims’ lifeless bodies. At that moment, as Juho was humming and making his way back to the table, a person jumped out of nowhere. Although the young author barely managed to avoid running into the man, Juho had to hold his breath at the pungent scent of alcohol wafting from the man.

“I... SO sorry!”

“It’s fine.”

The man seemed to be staggering his way toward the restroom. Although it was still light out, he seemed to have had quite a bit to drink. Then, as Juho was about to walk past him, the man said, “Hold on.”

“Yes?”

“I saw you somewhere?!”

At that, Juho looked around to see if there were any waiters nearby. Thankfully, there was one at the end of the hallway, who seemed to be returning to the kitchen with dishes and bowls. At that moment, the man grabbed Juho by the shoulder and turned the young author toward him by force. The excessive strength told Juho that the man’s senses had been dulled by the alcohol.

“You’re Yun Woo.”

“Yes, I am,” Juho replied, moving the man’s hand off of his shoulders.

Then, flinging his tie over his shoulder, the man glared intently at the young author, clearly ill-intentioned.

“‘Scuse me,” Juho called to the waiter, who looked around in the young author’s direction, obviously confused. It wasn’t until Juho waved exaggeratedly that the waiter started walking toward him.

Then, as Juho was about to walk away with a sigh, the young author stopped in his tracks at the provocative words that came from the drunkard: “There is no such thing as coincidence.”

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